


such a sweet surprise

by haleofStilesheart



Series: Tumblr Prompts [20]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bottom Derek, Butt Plugs, Established Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8007991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haleofStilesheart/pseuds/haleofStilesheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Derek knew what he looked like and he knew what people expected from him because of how he looked. He’d been called a bear, a hunk, even a Daddy, and while the designations had never really bothered him before it was pretty disappointing when he realized that everyone seemed to expect him to top.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	such a sweet surprise

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Anonymous](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anonymous/gifts).



> For the prompt: ✥ i’m the super macho, stereotypical top type of person, but i actually love bottoming and i’m not sure how to tell you that (particularly because you seem to be really enthusiastic about bottoming yourself), but oh look, you’ve found my extensive collection of butt plugs

Derek knew what he looked like and he knew what people expected from him because of how he looked. He’d been called a bear, a hunk, even a Daddy, and while the designations had never really bothered him before it was pretty disappointing when he realized that everyone seemed to expect him to top.

And by everyone, he meant the pack, the betas always cracking jokes about him being a power top who would die before bottoming. While funny, and oftentimes extremely embarrassing, their jokes were far from accurate.

He’d never actually slept with another man, wary of both casual sex and serious relationships, before Stiles had gotten together. Following a hurried, impromptu kiss at the graduation party the Sheriff had thrown Stiles, they’d begun dating, what Derek had feared would only be a summer fling before college burgeoning into a committed relationship.

And Stiles, oh Stiles, he was a power bottom if there ever was one. The first time they’d slept together, and every time thereafter, Stiles had started babbling on about how much he wanted Derek inside him as Derek kissed down his throat. He’d been helpless to deny him.

Every time they had sex, Stiles enthusiastically bottomed, thrusting his ass up at Derek whenever he was horny, enticing him into a quickie before a pack meeting or a shared shower before his classes. When they curled up in bed at the loft or in Stiles’ bedroom, Stiles always pressed the bottle of lube into Derek’s hands before spreading his legs, clearly expecting Derek to open him up, expecting him to top.

He didn’t have a problem with topping, he really didn’t. But there was something about the idea of bottoming, of being filled and fucked until he was coming untouched, that was so intoxicating he couldn’t help but want to just climb into Stiles’ lap and ride him until they were a sweaty tangle of limbs. He fantasized about it every night, sneaking a hand under the covers to curiously prod at his hole, rubbing the pad of his finger over the tight pucker, lubing up his fingers to see how many he could take, see if he could find his prostate.

During pack meetings and while they were on dates, he’d steal glances at Stiles’ fingers, they were long and thin and he wanted them inside, and Stiles’ mouth, imagining what those pretty lips would feel like on his ass as Stiles rimmed him. All of his lingering looks served as fodder for when he was alone in bed, three fingers shoved up inside himself as he moaned Stiles’ name into his pillow, the sound echoing through the otherwise empty loft.

And then there were his toys. More specifically, his butt plugs.

He had around a dozen, ranging in size and shape and color. He’d started his little collection with a starter kit he’d stumbled upon late one night while scrolling through porn, an ad for a sex toy website popping up and blocking the view of the video he’d been trying to watch, a Dale Cooper and Anthony Romero scene. Despite the risk of inadvertently inviting a virus into his computer, Derek’s curiosity got the better of him and he’d clicked on the banner which linked him to the homepage of  _ alphamaletoys.com _ .

He’d snorted at the ironic domain name, the sound dying in his throat when he saw the starter kit of black rubber butt plugs that was being advertised as half off with free shipping. There was a caption claiming it was a best seller, along with the tagline  _ ‘start small, finish big’ _ .

His mouth had gone dry as he stared at the computer screen and before he knew what he was doing the website had his credit information and his shipping address, a message popping up informing him his purchase would arrive in three to five business days. It had all gone downhill from there, in the most pleasurable way possible.

After breaking in his new toys, the first and only sex toys he’d ever owned, spending hours every night using them, he’d quickly acquired more. He got a few rubber ones that were just the slightest bit bigger than the largest in the starter kit, just enough for the difference in size to be noticeable as he slid them inside himself.

Next came the plugs specifically designed to stimulate his prostate, curved in all the right places, again in a variety of sizes. After those came the stainless steel plug embellished with a deep red jewel on the end and the vibrating plug that had quickly become his favorite.

He’d been sorely tempted to delve a little deeper into the world of sex toys, eyeing a few dildos and vibrators on his new favorite website when he browsed through their selection of lubes, having decided to sample nearly every one they had in stock (his favorite was the strawberry silicone based one). Yet despite his burning desire to have something bigger inside him, he had a few misgivings, the most pressing of which was that he wanted to wait for Stiles.

He wanted the only cock to ever be inside him, real or plastic, to be Stiles’. Which is why he was extremely disappointed that Stiles didn’t seem to have any interest whatsoever in topping. 

Not wanting to be needy or selfish, Derek, ever the dutiful doting boyfriend, topped every time, the sex always mind-blowingly amazing and serving to distract him from how empty his ass felt. A few times he’d actually contemplated simply wearing one of his plugs as he fucked Stiles, figuring it’d be a win-win situation, but he always chickened out before he could go through with it, terrified of how Stiles might react if he found out, which he inevitably would.

Instead he just kept his fixation with bottoming a secret, hiding his toys in a cardboard box under his bed, praying the pack didn’t go snooping around the loft. He wasn’t ready for that conversation. Or the onslaught of inevitable teasing that was sure to follow the discovery.

* * * * *

On the first Friday of October, Stiles volunteered to help Derek clean the loft, showing up with a mop, a broom, and a bucket full of cleaning products. Derek had greeted him with a peck on the cheek and a fond, exasperated roll of his eyes, inviting him to start cleaning.

For the first fifteen minutes Derek had simply watched Stiles sweep the polished concrete floors as he finished his bowl of cereal, waiting for Stiles to demand he help. The demand never came, Stiles becoming too absorbed in his task to even register the fact he was single-handedly cleaning the entire loft.

After finishing his Cheerios, Derek announced he would clean the kitchen, asking Stiles if he could change the sheets on his bed. Stiles enthusiastically agreed with a waggle of his eyebrows, putting on quite a show as he wrestled with the fitted sheet, muttering expletives under his breath as Derek wiped down the oven door.

“Hey, Der! I’m gonna move this box so I can clean under the bed, okay?” Stiles called from across the loft, already reaching under Derek’s bed.

“Alright,” Derek called back absentmindedly as he scrubbed the granite counters, wondering at how Erica managed to get gold nail polish in the kitchen. Belatedly, he registered Stiles’ words, panickedly shouting, “No, wait!”

“What? What’s wrong?” Stiles asked as Derek barreled towards him, looking terrified as Stiles pushed himself to his feet, the cardboard box in his arms. Derek stared at the box in horror. “Derek, what’s wrong?”

“Give me the box.”

“What? C’mon Derek, just tell me what’s wrong,” Stiles insisted, furrowing his brow.

“Just give me the box, Stiles,” Derek said again, more urgently.

“Not before you tell me what’s wrong,” Stiles rebuffed, squaring his shoulders as though preparing for an argument. Instead of answering, Derek grabbed the box, tugging on it when Stiles tightened his grip.

“Stiles!” Derek growled, red bleeding into the hazel of his irises. “Just give me the fucking box!”

“Fine!” Stiles capitulated, abruptly letting go of the box just as Derek pulled on it, sending the box flying, its contents scattering across the floor. “Umm...are those what I think they are?”

“Oh my god,” Derek whimpered, sitting on the edge of the bed, covering his face with his hands. “Oh my god.”

“Derek…?” Stiles asked softly, sitting beside him on the bed, gently laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh my god,” Derek repeated miserably, shaking his head as the tips of his ears blazed bright red.

“Hey, hey…” Stiles murmured, inching closer. “It’s alright. Derek, look at me.”

Derek reluctantly lifted his head from his hands and turned to look at Stiles who raised a hand to cup his cheek, leaning forward to kiss him. Breaking the kiss, Stiles pressed their foreheads together, raking his fingers through his stubble. “I’m sorry, Der. I should’ve just given you the box. I was being a stubborn asshole and I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay,” Derek stammered, leaning into Stiles’ touch.

“No, it’s not Derek,” Stiles replied sternly, his words sending a jolt of dread through Derek. “I did something wrong and I need to take responsibility for it.”

Derek was sighing in relief when Stiles continued, “Now, would it be alright to talk about  _ y’know _ ?”

Derek froze, growing rigid in Stiles’ arms. Stiles was quick to reassure him, “You don’t have to be embarrassed, babe.”

Derek just nodded slowly, looking close to tears.

“You don’t, I promise,” Stiles whispered, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. “Just talk to me, okay?”

“Okay…” Derek answered quietly, relaxing into Stiles’ arms. “What-What do you want to know?”

“Why didn’t you tell me you wanted to bottom?” Stiles began, hastily adding, “You do wanna bottom, right?”

Derek nodded jerkily, infinitely relieved that he’d finally, finally gotten it off his chest. Stiles moved one hand to scratch his fingers through the hair at the nape of Derek’s neck.

“I was worried you wouldn’t want to,” Derek confessed softly, fisting a hand in Stiles’ t-shirt. “Top, I mean. You never said anything about it.”

“That’s because I didn’t know you’d be into it,” Stiles explained. “I didn’t wanna ask if I could top if I didn’t know if you were completely, one hundred percent comfortable with it. And you seemed fine with me bottoming which, don’t get me wrong, I fucking love, so I didn’t bring it up.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, ‘oh’,” Stiles chuckled against Derek’s arm, nestling closer. He took a chance and pressed a kiss to the side of Derek’s neck, mumbling, “God, do you even know how hot that is?”

“What is?” Derek breathed, the whisper of Stiles’ lips against his throat soothing him further.

“You bottoming,” Stiles rasped, tilting his head to tug on Derek’s ear lobe with his teeth. Smirking at the involuntary shudder that ran through Derek at the teasing nip, Stiles continued, “Fuck. You’d look so good all spread out for me, Der. Using your toys. Getting yourself ready for me.”

Derek groaned and bit his lip at Stiles’ words, letting his eyes fall shut, his face flushing. He fisted his hand in Stiles’ shirt as he mumbled, “Stiles…”

“Mmm-hmm?” Stiles hummed against his neck, nuzzling his face against the sensitive thin skin of his throat. “That sound good?”

“Yeah…” Derek moaned, letting his head fall back to give Stiles more access. He whined when Stiles pulled away, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“More of that later, okay? Right now I think we should clean up a little,” Stiles informed him, running a hand through Derek’s hair.

Derek couldn’t believe that Stiles was thinking about dusting and vacuuming when he was in bed, completely at his mercy, with his toys spread out around them. He was about to say something about Stiles’ priorities when he realized by cleaning Stiles meant picking up the scattered butt plugs and carefully returning them to the cardboard box he returned to its place under the bed.

Standing back up, Stiles smiled at Derek, leaning over for another kiss, murmuring against Derek’s lips, “How bout we lie down?”

Derek nodded, kicking off his boots before climbing up the bed and stretching out across the fresh sheets like a cat in the sun. He scooted over when Stiles nudged his side, beckoning him closer as he hopped into bed.

Stiles curled up against Derek’s side, resting his head on his chest as he lazily traced his fingers over the buttons on his Henley. Tilting his head up he asked, “Hey, Der?”

“Yeah, babe?” Derek answered, brushing his fingers up and down Stiles’ back.

“Does this mean I get to be the big spoon?”

He laughed as Derek hit him in the face with a pillow.

**Author's Note:**

> [Send me prompts!](http://hale-of-stiles-heart.tumblr.com/)


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